


Lonicera

by Crescense



Category: Sleepy Hollow (1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 09:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crescense/pseuds/Crescense
Summary: Katrina proposes to Ichabod.
Relationships: Ichabod Crane/Katrina Van Tassel
Kudos: 15





	Lonicera

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies in advance.  
Written in honor of Sleepy Hollow's 20th anniversary.
> 
> Peter Lerangis' Sleepy Hollow movie novelization stated that Katrina smelled of honeysuckle.

Near cottage ruins, she has hold of a hand, leading a dance of slow, swaying circles. No words, barely a comprehensive thought passes. Beneath leafless and twisted branches, they like water drift into each other, outside one another, until Katrina tears away, flies to the open field toward the grand Van Tassel estate. Heart racing, bewildered, Ichabod follows in pursuit.

Having lost her, he enters the still, dark house, gazing worriedly over its barren rooms. Without its former occupants, the building has about it a somber chill, a remembrance of death. As he turns a corner, he finds Katrina. Her owlish eyes blink slowly as she looks at him from the dark kitchen.

She smiles with her fast approach. Her skirts rustle, the clicking of her steps echo. The room is now with sound — but his eyes do not stray from her as she brushes her fingers over his chin. She moves closer, placing her face to his, her mouth to his ear. "Would you have me were I not seen?"

"Seen or unseen, I would have you." His voice is low embers. She feels them stir within her.

Before he has the chance to ask his question, a finger moves to her lips. She speaks. "There is no need to ask. My answer given when first we met."

His eyes warm. "Oblige me, then, Katrina. What is your wish?"

"I wish for your trust, Ichabod," she says as around his eyes a blindfold is placed. Gently with her hands, she turns him in yet another circle, disorienting him as a knot is tied.

"That you already have," he mutters. She smiles. Her fondness for him risen, escaping in the color of her skin. Her features change. "Do not remove the cloth. I will know," she whispers before departing.

"Katrina?" he calls out, his voice weaker than he would like. "Katrina?" But there is no answer. Timidly he places his steps, arms stretched beyond him, feeling nothing but air. There is again no sound. His attempts at progress are at times halted by impediments, but he continues through room and hall until he suddenly knows to stop.

He turns, still blind, and reaches directly to Katrina, knowing the ends of his fingers will soon meet the cloth of her dress, her shoulder. He gently trails her shoulder to her neck, grasping her face as he places a kiss on her cheek. He tastes the salt of a tear and kisses its path, the skin above it, before finally moving to her lips.

Slowly he kisses her, feeling her pulse beneath his fingers burning through him. He hears her shallow, rapid breathing, smells the honeysuckle of her. He pauses, breathes, his head near hers. With the blindfold removed, he sees he has walked farther than he thought, on to the main hall of the Van Tassel house. The area where he first laid eyes on Katrina. Her hair, as she is revealed to him, is free, unpinned. Her eyes are wild. A smile spreads across her lips.

"I love you," she whispers, warm onto his skin, and he the same as feels the oath settle, bind to him. His breath catches. The whites of his eyes appear beneath his dark lashes, swim to the hollows of sight. The words he's longed for have been given, passed to him from her heart. Words that he has held beneath his surface, waiting. Waiting to be met. Doubled. "We are the two of us now orphaned," she continues. "There is no being to which we owe consent. No soul is alive to warrant my presence in this town. If you feel as I do, why should we not join hands? Live as one in matrimony, together in New York?"

"Katrina," he whispers in turn, his mind and body frail. "I love you in return. I am yours to do with as you will. For now. Forever. My home is yours. My heart, my body. All that I am and all that is mine is yours."

She seizes his hand, twines her fingers with his. "We today say these words aloud, though I think they have been waiting for release far longer."

His grip on her hand tightens. "Yes," he manages, "they have."

_Mrs. Katrina Crane_ the ink scrawled across the page. _Mrs. Katrina Crane_.


End file.
